The survival of l'oiseau de guerre
by Becca118
Summary: Bit of my French kicking in there because I couldn't think of a better title. Set partway through Sorceress; what would have happened if things had turned out differently? I'm not going to spoil it, but the clue is in the title. Rated M just in case.


Rebekah ran out of the house and stood over the Indian warrior who lay dying on the ground to protect him from the man with the sword raised over his head. She felt a breeze blow past her as if it was encouraging her on, urging her to save this man's life. She could almost hear it whispering the words 'save him, save him' to her. The voice touched her memory and she got a brief flash of recognition that disappeared as quickly as it arrived. Who did the voice belong to?

"You must not kill this man," she commanded. "He has fought bravely. Fetch a blanket and two wooden poles and make a sling to carry him inside." She turned to the man who was still holding his sword over the Indian man's head. "Lower your sword. Go and fetch bandages and ointment." The man sheathed his sword and walked away in a subdued manner.

Tobias came over to her.

"Are you sure that was the right thing to do, Rebekah? If we are seen to be harbouring an Indian warrior..."

"It was the right thing to do," she said. "I heard a voice speaking to me, asking me to save him. I don't know who the voice belonged to, but I have a feeling I knew the person once." She stopped in frustration. "I felt for a moment like a distant memory was trying to break through, like water through a dam."

"Come inside, love," said Tobias softly. He gently took her shoulders and led her inside the house.

"But the warrior..."

"I will make sure no harm comes to him," promised Tobias. He moved swiftly outside to oversee the carrying of the wounded man into the nearby barn. He knew that the others would brook no bringing of a Native into one of the houses, no matter how wounded he was.

Rebekah set about finding ointments and bandages for him, since the man who had wielded the sword seemed to have disappeared. _Probably to hide in one of the barns with the animals _she thought. She made her way to the barn with the things she had gathered. She was determined to save his life, even if she did not know the reason why.

I held Jaybird's gorget in my hands, savouring the warmth that the bloodied silver retained; the last physical reminder I would have of my husband's existence.

"He died well," Black Fox told me as he placed the gorget in my hands. "It is for you. I took it so you would know. I am a man now, mother. I will take care of you and Speckled Bird." His voice broke at the last words. I weeped openly. He was disturbed by this outburst of emotion, but he did his best to comfort me. We stood together, united in sorrow for a father who had been greater than any other and a husband dearer than life itself.

The next morning, Rebekah carried strips of dried meat and a bowl of soup to the barn where the Indian warrior lay injured. She pushed the door open carefully and trod lightly through the straw so as not to disturb him in case he was sleeping. However, his eyes flicked open as soon as he sensed she was there with a quickness and alertness that alarmed her. His eyes darted around as if contemplating escape with the twitchiness of a small bird.

"Do not be afraid," she said softly. "I am not here to harm you." She moved forward slowly and placed the plate and the bowl within his reach in the straw and backed away a few paces. To show him she was not a threat, she sat down in the straw to bring herself to his level. The man reached for the soup first, wincing as he stretched his bandaged torso but keeping his eyes on her every second. She saw a wary, defensive look and knew that if she did even the slightest to alarm him, he would be ready and on the defence in seconds despite his wounds.

"You must rest," she told him. "Your injuries will not heal otherwise. Look-" she held out her hands- "I have no weapons. I am unarmed; you can trust me." As he sipped the soup directly from the bowl, neglecting the spoon she had provided for him, he relaxed a little and some of the tension left his shoulders.

"Can you speak English?" asked Rebekah.

The man wiped his mouth with his hand. "Yes."

"Where did you learn our language?" said Rebekah, her curiosity piqued.

"I was brought up among white people," he explained slowly. The pain clearly made even speaking short sentences an effort. "They taught me to read and speak their language. I returned to my own people to find most of them wiped out by white man's sickness, the spotted plague, as you call it. I lived with a man of our tribe, a healer, and a great one, who lived alone. His name was White Eagle." The memory of the _powwaw _was almost too great for Jaybirdand he stopped as tears threatened to overflow. Rebekah seemed to sense this.

"Do you have a wife and children in your tribe?" she asked.

"Yes." A faint smile crept onto his face, the first real emotion Rebekah had seen him show, even as his wounds were being dressed and clearly causing him immense pain. "A wife, a son and a daughter."

"They must be missing you very much," she said. "I have a husband and a child, named Mary Sarah. I named her after an old friend of mine I met in England before we boarded the ship. She was a great friend and companion and we remained friends. But she fled."

"Why?" asked Jaybird.

"Our town, Beulah, became riddled by talk of witches. Girls began going mad and the finger was pointed at her. She stayed to see the birth of my daughter. Then she was forced to flee. I haven't seen her since."

"What was her name?"

"Mary Newbury," said Rebekah softly. "Whether she was a witch or not, I do not believe she was capable of harming those girls. They brought the madness upon themselves, capering in the forest and messing with things they should not have."

Jaybird remained silent. He was in the barn of Mary's friend Rebekah. Mary had mentioned her when they had met in the forest. Suddenly he pined for her. The overwhelming loss of his wife and children hit him like a blow to the stomach.

"What is your name?" asked Rebekah.

"Jaybird," he replied. "I need to get a message to my wife and my children. She must know I am alive."

"How?"

"I need paper."

Rebekah hurried out to the house and fetched paper and a pencil carved from the wood of a tree and sharpened to a point. She coated it with a layer of fine granite that had been crushed to a powder and offered it to him. He shook his head.

"I cannot write. You must write it for me, and then do exactly as I say."

She nodded. He began to transcribe a message.

"Eyes of a Wolf, Black Fox and Speckled Bird. I am wounded, but being cared for by an English woman. Your loving husband and father, Jaybird." He waited as she finished writing the message, slowly as she had to keep replenishing the tip with fresh granite powder. When she was finished, she looked up.

"Now you must follow my instructions exactly. Walk outside this barn and wait by the old oak tree at the edge of the clearing. A blue bird will be waiting for you. Fold the piece of paper and give it to him."

Rebekah was confused by these strange instructions, but she wanted to honour his wishes, so she obeyed, unfolding herself gracefully from her sitting position and heading out of the barn.

As soon as the door closed, Jaybird let out a piercing whistle reminiscent of the call of a blue jay.

Rebekah jumped when she heard the shrill call of a bird pierce the air. She calmed herself and walked towards the tree Jaybird had indicated. To her surprise, there was indeed a small blue bird hovering among the lower branches. Upon seeing her, it flew down to her level. She held out her hand with the folded paper in it. The bird took the paper and flew away nimbly into the sky. She watched it leave.

"A jay bird," she murmured before turning and heading back to the house.

I had been out hunting for food- meat, berries and nuts- and had just stowed them away safely in the storage tent when the returning warriors arrived at our camp. I smeared ash over my face to hide my skin and joined the rest of the tribe outside. They brought war with them like a pestilence and their harsh English words rang through the cold air. Unsurprisingly, I had not escaped their attention.

"Unless you give the fugitives and the white woman, it will go badly for you."

Silence met his words. No one stirred. Nobody looked in my direction. My head was covered and I kept my eyes fixed to the ground. He waited for a response, but he got nothing.

"Mark my words. Dawn tomorrow." He wheeled his horse round and cantered away, followed by the rest of the warriors and their Indian helpers.

Hoosac ordered the warriors from the village and I went with them. I would never have gone if my judgement had not been marred by grief over Jaybird. I thought that Speckled Bird, ill with fever, would not survive a night out in the cold and I trusted Hoosac and his wife to care for her.

Morning broke with the sound of gunfire. I awoke to the sharp, acrid smell of burning. We ran out to the craggy ledge that overlooked the camp. Soldiers were already storming the camp, shooting some where they slept and others as they fled. They had not waited until dawn as we thought they might. The darkness still wasn't fully gone.

I started out for the village.

"It is too dangerous," frowned Coos. "They may send men back to loot the storage pits. I cannot spare men to go with you."

"I am Eyes of a Wolf. I go alone."

"No!" Black Fox stepped forward. "I will not let you."

"I must," I said gently. "You are my son, but you cannot command me."

"Let me come with you then," he said resolutely.

"No." I shook my head. "Your duty lies elsewhere."

I made my way down to the village. Dead bodies lay everywhere. People, animals; nothing had been spared. Ashes from the campfires had been trampled over the ground; baskets were strewn everywhere; toys, half-mended clothes, knives and food lay where it had been thrown during the panic to escape. The further I progressed through the houses, the more the tiny glimmer of hope that Speckled Bird had escaped began to build. I pulled aside the charred mats from the long house. I thought she had been taken prisoner and that Black Fox would find her and bring her back.

Then I saw her. She must have sought to escape, but she had tripped and stumbled. Her leg was still caught in a fallen cooking frame. She lay as if sleeping, but the dark bloom behind her head told me that she was dead.

I sat on the ground. A numb feeling overtook me. I felt as frozen as the ground beneath my feet. So frozen that I did not even hear his horse approaching. John Samson. He slid from the saddle and walked towards me.

"I did not have any use for your young whelp, but you, Eyes of a Wolf, may be very valuable to me indeed."

His words cut through the frosty thickness around me. Before I knew it, I was on my feet. "Come no closer, or it will be the worse for you," I told him, loosening the tomahawk from my belt.

"What will you do, a woman alone? Put a spell on me? I have heard you are strong in sorcery."

"Do you want to see?" I asked.

I gave him the wolf in me. He paled as my form was replaced with that of a snarling she-wolf. I could have killed him there and then, but I do not like the taste of blood in my mouth. I assumed my human form and held him still, not releasing him until my tomahawk connected with his chest. He looked down in surprise. Then he fell.

I left him there and carried my Speckled Bird to the burying ground on the hill high above the village. I laid her underneath the trees and turned around. I followed the men who had done this to my village as an eagle flies and watched them. I drew out the thunderstorm amulet White Eagle had given to me. I called on his power now. It had been raining for days, weeks even, and last night the heavy black clouds had poured their contents down to earth, filling every river, every stream. Now it was time for that water to find its way downriver.

The surge started small and grew larger and more powerful until it connected with the first horsemen and the fording place. Horses lost their footing, panicked and bolted while men were swept away in the powerful torrents of water. The rest turned and ran in confusion. That was the moment the warriors struck. I heard the screams of the men and saw blood and water spray into the air.

I returned to Speckled Bird and chose a place under a young silver birch to bury her. I placed the beads Jaybird had given me and the amulet from White Eagle with her. I faced her in the way of her father's people and scattered earth over her in my farewell.

Jaybird watched out of the barn window as rain poured down. He watched as people of Rebekah's... he didn't know what to call them. Tribe did not seem the right word, but he was sure this group of people weren't all related, so they couldn't be a family... he settled on group. People of her group anxiously herded cattle and horses into barns and stables, while others pulled sheets and clothes from lines of rope strung between buildings and ran inside, heads ducked to shield their eyes from the wind and rain that lashed against everything. He barely heard the barn door bang over the noise as Rebekah entered, soaking wet and breathless from a run between the house and the barn.

"What's going on?" asked Jaybird.

"Word has gone around that English soldiers attacked an Indian settlement north of here just before dawn. The warriors of the tribe were camped on a hill above on the lookout but were woken early by a surprise attack."

Jaybird remained silent. He thought of Eyes of a Wolf, his dear wife, and his children. He could not imagine how he would feel if it had been his tribe getting attacked. Suddenly, a piercing pain struck him, like a hole had been torn in his heart.

"What of the storm?"

"It began this morning, after the attack. Some of the more superstitious people are saying the Indians brought it to wreak havoc on those who attacked their village."

"It would have to have been a bloodbath for my people to bring about this kind of attack," said Jaybird, forgetting he was talking to a white woman who would not know anything of the Indian ways and possibly fear them the way others did. He froze when he realised what he had said. "I am sorry. I paint my people to be violent and bloodthirsty. We are not like that, despite what your leaders may say about us."

Rebekah smiled. "I do not believe your people are any more violent than my own are. My people are the ones who led this attack and if it is as bad as I fear it was, then your people seem to be the ones we ought to show respect to. If a man, no matter what colour his skin or what race he is, can be so cruel, they do not deserve respect and leadership."

"Thank you." Jaybird bowed his head. "You are more honourable than many white people I have met since the ones who educated me in your language. You have helped me in many ways since you found me."

"Anything," said Rebekah. "I will help whatever way I can."

Jaybird raised his head and Rebekah was shocked to see pain in his eyes. "Will you help me find my wife?"

I began to help the tribe set up camp ten miles north of where we had been, but Hoosac came over and dismissed me from my duties.

"Look after the boy," he said, nodding towards Ephraim, who was limping slowly behind some of the others. He was trying to carry his fair share of the load, but failing; his lack of strength and stamina in comparison to our own was showing through. Only days have passed since we rescued him from the English settlement. I try not to think about it. It reminds me too much of my old life, of Martha and Jonah, and of Rebekah. Out of everyone, it is her I miss the most. She became a good friend to me and she and her family put their life on the line to rescue me.

I walked over to Ephraim and took the bundles of canvas and poles he was carrying from him. He blushed cherry-red and tried to take them back, but I resisted. He seemed furious and embarrassed that a woman had to come to his aid.

"You are injured and weaker because of it," I told him. "Do not be ashamed of it."

"I should be able to manage my own load." He glared at me, looking resentful.

"Injury is nothing to be ashamed of. One day you will be as strong as my own son. You need time to rest and heal and you cannot do this carrying about heavy loads. Come on, I will wrap some bandages around your leg and treat it to stop it getting infected."

Reluctantly, he sat down on the ground and allowed me to dress his wounds in grasses found on forest floors before bandaging them to his skin. I then set about rubbing oils into his cuts and grazes, at which he winced but did not say a word.

As I worked, I noticed Black Fox standing at a distance, watching. I hope one day he will accept Ephraim, perhaps not as a brother but maybe as a friend. No matter what Black Fox may think, I am not trying to replace Speckled Bird. No child could ever fill the hole left in our hearts and in our family by her. But I know she would have wanted me to save Ephraim, so I will. For her, and for Jaybird. I will not see anybody else needlessly die in this war.

Rebekah sat in her and Tobias' bedchamber that night, thinking over Jaybird's request. Could she find his wife for him?

Her husband entered the room, sat down next to her and took her hands in his.

"What's on your mind, Rebekah?" he asked gently.

"It's that obvious?"

He nodded. "You were playing with Mary Sarah earlier and I could tell your thoughts were somewhere else."

"I was just thinking about Mary Newbury," she sighed. "I wish she hadn't been forced to run from us. She was a good friend."

"I know, to me too," said Tobias. "But there's something else, isn't there?"

"You know me so well," smiled Rebekah wanly. "Yes. Jaybird, the Indian man living in the barn. He asked me to help him find his wife."

"You mean go and find his tribe? Rebekah I won't let you do that alone. It's far too dangerous."

"But I need to do this, I-"

"Rebekah." Tobias held up his hand. "I said I won't let you do this _alone_. You aren't going without me."

Rebekah stayed silent for a few moments. She was ecstatic at Tobias' offer; she'd known before now that she couldn't have found a more loving husband. But, abruptly, her face fell. "What about Mary Sarah? We can't leave her alone."

"We can ask your parents to look after her. They adore her and I'm sure they'll agree." Tobias pulled Rebekah into a tight hug.

"Thank you," she murmured into his shoulder.

That evening after dinner, Rebekah went to visit Jaybird in the barn. As she entered she saw his head move slightly to acknowledge her presence and she marvelled at his senses. It seemed as if he'd heard her coming and knew exactly when she was going to open the door. She could see why some people feared Indians; their natural alertness was unnerving. But she saw no reason to be scared of Jaybird, so she went over to him.

"I've been talking to my husband," she said. "He's agreed to let me help you find your wife on the condition that he comes as well."

Jaybird nodded his acceptance. "I hope I am not disrupting your family too much," he said, his head bowed.

"Of course not," said Rebekah. "My parents are going to look after our daughter while we are away. Now, let me check your wounds and then you can tell me where we need to go to find your tribe."

Jaybird nodded again and allowed her to unwrap his bandages. She could see the pain in his face but his pride would not let him make a sound. Rebekah thought of his wife and what she would be like; if she was as strong as her husband then she felt sure that she would like to meet her. She only hoped Jaybird's tribe would accept her and Tobias long enough for them to find his wife.

Once he had applied more ointment to his chest- Rebekah had sensed that his pride would not let her do that either and it would be awkward to ask- and she had re-bandaged his wounds, he knelt and began to sketch a map into the dirt.

"This is your village," he explained as he drew a series of small squares and rectangles to represent the buildings. Rebekah was astonished to note that all seemed to be in precisely the right positions in relation to each other. Had he really taken so much in during his brief moments outside?

"The last place I know for sure they were camping was about five miles north of here." Jaybird drew a line on the map, following the exact curves of the path the warriors had taken in the ambush against Rebekah's village. "With the unrest they could have moved to another camp, but I am confident that if they were to move, they would have gone further north."

"Of course," said Rebekah. "Would you mind if Tobias comes in here?" She asked tentatively. "He would be able to copy this map much better than me and he has asked if you would allow him to meet you."

Jaybird was taken aback by her politeness, and the fact that another man was requesting his permission to talk to him. He had not met another white person- besides Mary- who had treated an Indian with such deference. He nodded his assent and Rebekah left. Within a few minutes she returned, bringing Tobias with her.

"It is an honour to meet you," said Jaybird. "Thank you for agreeing to help me find my tribe and my wife. I know it will be a dangerous journey for you."

"The honour is mine," replied Tobias. "Rebekah did the right thing in preventing our soldiers from killing you. Perhaps now our people will learn to be more accepting of yours. All this fighting will come to no good."

"Those are wise words. I have drawn a map to the last place I know my tribe had set up camp, and as I have already told Rebekah, they will be travelling north from there. How far north they will have got I do not know."

Tobias nodded and carved Jaybird's map skilfully into a piece of wood.

"We will set out tonight, at midnight," he said. "I feel that some of the men here would not agree if they knew we plan to help a native, and may try to stop us."

"Thank you." Jaybird bowed his head once more, and Rebekah and Tobias left the barn to prepare for their journey. Once they had gone and he was sure nobody was outside the barn, Jaybird laid down in the hay and fell asleep. That night, he dreamt of Speckled Bird. She was running through the camp, following others who were running also. He thought at first that she was playing, but then he realised that adults were running. He saw Black Fox's face, full of anger, hope and sadness, watching the scene helplessly. He saw soldiers standing on a hill over the camp, unable to do anything as white men swept through the camp. Jaybird could smell the acrid burning of fires and the sharp scent of blood.

He awoke abruptly, drenched in sweat, which mixed with the tears that rolled down his cheeks when he realised his beautiful daughter was dead. He closed his eyes and prayed that his remaining son and his wife were safe from harm as he fell asleep again.

The next morning, Jaybird awoke to the sound of heavy, unfamiliar footsteps treading from the house to the barn. He sat up quickly, ready to hide if the person who entered looked dangerous.

John Rivers hesitantly pushed open the barn door. He had agreed readily enough to care for his daughter's child while she went off on an errand- hunting, she had told him, scoping out lands further away for good crop fields and wild animals nearby- with Tobias. But it wasn't until his wife had reminded him that they would have to care for the wounded Indian in the barn as well. He had told Sarah he would not do any of the nursing himself, but that he would go and talk to the man.

The first thing John Rivers' eyes focused on was a dark-skinned man, sitting against the hay bales looking alert. He wore deerskin trousers and soft moccasins, while his chest was bare save the bandages Rebekah had bound his wound with. He moved cautiously forward until he was a few feet from the man.

"I mean you no harm," he said clearly. "I am Rebekah's father. I have come to see how you are doing in her absence."

The native's shoulders relaxed a couple of centimetres.

"Thank you. My name is Jaybird. Your daughter has been very kind to look after me since the battle."

"Thank you," said John Rivers.

"Do you know where Rebekah has gone?" asked Jaybird.

"She has gone further afield to search out good hunting and crop fields for our village," replied John. "She will likely be a few weeks, maybe more, maybe less."

_So Rebekah has not told him _thought Jaybird. _I will not say anything then. I would not like to get on the wrong side of this man. _He had studied Rivers as soon as he had entered the barn and noted his large hands, his muscles in his arms and chest and his height. While Jaybird was about five foot eight, fast and agile, this man was strong and just over six foot. Maybe if he was at full strength he would have been able to outmanoeuvre this man, but injured as he was Jaybird knew he would not make it. He bowed his head.

"Thank you for caring for me."

The man frowned. "I will not be continuing the care my daughter has been giving you," he said. "My wife has agreed to look after you in her absence."

"My thanks to your wife, then." Jaybird kept his head bowed.

"I will send her in," said John Rivers abruptly, turning and striding powerfully from the barn.

A few minutes later, a woman came into the barn. Unlike her husband, she gave off no signs of stress or hostility.

"I must apologise for my husband," she said. "This is difficult for him. He worries greatly about Rebekah; do not take it personally."

"I do not," replied Jaybird. "Rebekah is a wonderful woman. Without her I would not be here today. I owe much to her."

"Do you have a wife of your own?" asked the woman. "My name is Sarah, by the way."

"Yes, I do," said Jaybird. "She goes by Eyes of a Wolf, but the English people would call her Mary." He watched Sarah Rivers' eyes closely to see if she picked up the hint he had given her. She showed no sign of recognising the name. "I have two- I have one child." A single tear fell from his eye at the thought of his dear Speckled Bird.

"What happened to the second?" asked Sarah.

"I don't know. I only know that she is dead. She will be travelling west now, with the others who have been lost in this war."

"When did she die?"

"A week or more after I came here." He noticed her surprise. "My people have ways of knowing things that most people do not. Most of your people fear us because of it- we are more _in tune_, you might say, with the world around us. I sensed her loss as soon as it happened."

"Okay." Sarah nodded slowly. "May I take a look at your wound?"

"Of course." Jaybird allowed her to unwind the bandages.

"My daughter has done well," proclaimed Sarah after studying Rebekah's handiwork. "I only hope she will return safe and well to us after her journey. I do not want to lose her; nor can our village afford to. She is one of our most skilled in medicine and healing, and her husband is our best carpenter."

"I pray they return safely to you," Jaybird said. "If you do not mind, I would like to sleep now. My wounds still pain me sometimes."

"Of course," said Sarah respectfully. She got up and left the barn.

Rebekah brought her horse to a halt on the edge of a thick forest. Tobias halted alongside her and pulled out Jaybird's map. It had been four days since they had left the village but so far the weather had been fair and they'd made good progress. Jaybird had estimated it would take them two weeks to reach his tribe's village, but he had allowed for bad weather, and if they kept up the progress they were making Tobias thought they could be there in five more days' travelling.

"Should we go through this forest?" asked Rebekah. "It looks thick and it would only slow us down if we were to get lost trying to find our way through."

"Good point," agreed Tobias. He looked at his wife, sat gracefully atop her horse, and thought for the many hundredth time since he'd met her how beautiful she was. He loved that she was intelligent, too, unlike many of the other girls he'd met in Beulah; they'd always seemed to be obsessed with their clothes and looks or running round after various men they found attractive. Rebekah was more down-to-earth, and that was one of the many things he loved about her.

"We'll follow the edge of the forest round," continued Tobias. "It should bring us back to the path here and we can camp just on the edge of the woods overnight if we need to."

Rebekah nodded and moved her horse forward into a smooth trot. Tobias quickly followed and as his horse, a hand bigger than hers, drew alongside, she laughed and urged her horse into a fast canter. Tobias grinned and gave chase, both horses galloping faster and faster along the worn trail they were following.

Tobias' horse quickly drew into the lead, covering the ground in much longer strides than Rebekah's mare, so he was the one who reached the fallen log blocking the trail first.

"Rebekah, careful!" he shouted. His words whipped back with the wind to her as soon as they left his mouth. He had no choice but to urge his horse forward and clear the broad tree trunk in a jump. Several strides later he reined his horse inwards and turned to face back over the log. Rebekah's mare was striding eagerly towards the jump and a look of intense concentration was set into Rebekah's face. The mare took off and cleared the log by inches. Tobias released the breath he'd been holding and turned around as Rebekah slowed her horse alongside his.

"Are you okay?" asked Tobias.

Rebekah nodded breathlessly. "Let's keep going," she said. They walked their horses in peace to give them a chance to rest after their gallop.

Five hours later, darkness began to draw on. Rebekah and Tobias stopped and tied their horses to trees using long lengths of rope to give them room to graze and drink from the stream running next to the spot they had chosen. Tobias began setting up the tent while Rebekah gathered small branches from the edge of the wood and set about lighting a fire. She began cooking some of the strips of meat they had brought with them, leaving them roasting on a spit she'd constructed out of branches and leaves to hold it together while she fetched water from the stream to refill their bottles.

By the time Rebekah had come back from checking the on the horses, armed with full bottles for their journey the next day, Tobias had finished erecting the tent and was putting the pieces of chicken onto wooden plates they'd brought with them. He handed her a plate as she sat down next to him on the ground underneath the trees. The meat tasted smoky and almost burned her tongue. As they ate, rain began to fall. It began with a tiny pattering of water against the leaves and transformed into a torrential downpour. Rebekah drew a blanket close around her shoulders and stared out at the rain, glad of the protection provided by the canopy of trees above her. She thought of Jaybird in their barn at home. He was warm and dry, but he and his people lived in this weather year-round. She wondered how they coped. It was then that she truly realised that Indians, for all their strength and agility, lived in the same world they did and had to put up with the same hardships as her people- war, disease, monsoons.

"Are you coming to bed, darling?" Tobias's soft voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Yes." She stood up and made her way into the tent. Tobias had arranged sleeping bags into a makeshift mattress and had provided several of the thickest blankets by way of a duvet. Rebekah removed her outer clothes and pulled a blanket over her. Tobias entered, removed his trousers and shirt and lay down next to her. He pulled the largest blanket over himself and turned to Rebekah, who was already half-asleep and facing the canvas of the tent away from him. He folded his arms around her and fell asleep with his face nestled in her hair.

Rebekah felt Tobias get into their makeshift bed beside her and closed her eyes. Seconds later, his warm body touched her back and she felt his strong, muscled arms close around her waist. She rested her head against his chest and fell asleep.

The next morning, Rebekah awoke first. She yawned and carefully wormed her way out of Tobias' arms without disturbing him. She pulled on her riding skirt, a long-sleeved pale top and her boots and left the tent. The horses were grazing peacefully and she could hear birds singing in the morning sunshine. _A change from the weather last night then _Rebekah thought to herself, remembering the pounding of the heavy rain. She fetched the map from her bag and sat on the ground just outside the tent, which luckily seemed to have survived the worst of the rain and was mostly dry. The route Jaybird had marked for them seemed to be relatively simple, although who could tell what the land ahead would be like? What if they ran into another Indian tribe who would attack them without hesitation? What if they couldn't find Jaybird's tribe? All these worries plagued Rebekah; as determined as she was to carry out Jaybird's task, she feared that Jaybird's wife would not want to talk to them or, worse, they would have bad news to carry back to Jaybird. Who knew with all the fighting that was going on?

Half an hour later, Rebekah had just arrived back at their camp from collecting fruits and nuts from the forest that Jaybird had told her were safe to eat when Tobias came out of the tent.

"Morning," she said. "I've got some food for breakfast and there's enough to carry with us for later."

Tobias smiled. "Thank you, Rebekah." He then surprised her by pulling her into his arms and softly kissing her lips, just for a few seconds. Her little gestures of thoughtfulness always astounded him in the way that she always thought of others. He sat down and began eating some of the fruit she had provided. Their water bottles were already attached to their horses' saddles for the journey ahead, so he got up and began dismantling their tent.

"Do you want me to help?" asked Rebekah.

"No," said Tobias. "You haven't eaten breakfast yet." He pointed to a bowl of fruit on the floor which, so far, she hadn't touched.

"If you're sure..." she wavered.

"Yes," he grinned. "I can handle taking down the tent."

Rebekah gave in and sat down to eat. By the time she'd finished, Tobias had packed the tent away in its bag and fixed onto the back of his saddle. He checked that they had everything then untied and swiftly mounted his horse while Rebekah put her bowl into a bag on her own saddle and kicked earth over the fire to put it out. She placed her foot into the stirrup and mounted her own horse. She and Tobias left their camp, leaving barely any signs they'd ever been there, except some trampled grass and a few scattered ashes from the remnants of the fire.

The same sun that shone down on Rebekah and Tobias as they continued their journey streamed through the windows of the barn as Jaybird concentrated, sweating profusely as he leant all his weight on his right hand, which rested on a bale of straw. He pushed down strongly, wincing slightly as his ribs ached. Like a newborn foal, he forced his legs to straighten underneath him until he was upright. He panted heavily with the effort it had taken just for that simple action. A month ago he had been able to run as freely and nimbly as a deer; now he broke out in rivulets of sweat just to stand up.

Sarah Rivers watched as the native Indian fought the battle to stand and won. She mentally applauded his immense strength and determination. Now she understood how the Indians survived living half-wild in this unforgiving land. They were physically and mentally tougher and stronger than she could ever have imagined. A matter of weeks after his injury and he was back on his feet again. _Some of the men in the village would be laid up for at least a month with an injury like that_ she thought.

Jaybird looked up to see Sarah smiling kindly at him. He couldn't help but smile back and a sudden rush of joy surfaced in him. These past two weeks in this English settlement had been full of pain, anguish, despair and sorrow, but now he had regained his health and felt almost as spirited and free as a young buck again.

"Thank you," he said.

"You're welcome. How much longer will you need to stay here?"

"Until I hear news of my tribe from-" Jaybird broke off, remembering that Sarah didn't know the truth of her daughter's whereabouts. "Until I hear news of my tribe or until your people want me out of here."

"This is my family's barn, so you're welcome here for as much longer as you need to recuperate," she replied. "I wish you all the best in hearing from your tribe." With that, Sarah Rivers departed the barn, wondering briefly if she'd see Jaybird again, but more pressingly, when she would see her daughter and Tobias again.

Eyes of a Wolf crouched low as she fetched fresh water from a spring near their camp. At precisely the same time eighteen miles south, Rebekah was kicking earth over their fire to put it out before she and Tobias continued their journey. Eyes of a Wolf stared at the swirling waters beneath her as water flowed into the vases she was filling. Suddenly, just as they had done all those years ago on the ship to America, the visions came unbidden. She had the view of an eagle of two people on horseback following a trail north. The eagle swooped lower in the sky and Eyes of a Wolf could see a woman with light brown braided hair and a strong man with dark hair and a handsome face astride a black stallion and a chestnut mare. A flicker of familiarity was present on both their faces, as if she might have known them in a previous life, but now they were older and had grown into their bodies more, so their features were not so easily recognisable. The vision ended as abruptly as it had begun and Eyes of a Wolf returned to the village with her pails of water.

Rebekah drew her horse to a halt and pointed up at the sky.

"Look, Tobias!"

He shaded his eyes and followed her finger. Above them an eagle was gliding gracefully on the wind. Suddenly, it dipped its wings and swooped closer and closer to them until Rebekah feared for a moment that it might be attacking. But a few metres above their heads it levelled out long enough for Rebekah to catch a glimpse of its eyes. What she saw made her start in shock, for its eyes were not the sharp, piercing ones of an eagle, but larger, grey eyes flecked with yellow that reminded her startlingly of a wolf. The uncanny feeling that she had seen those eyes somewhere before struck Rebekah and she strained to remember where. She had the feeling that if she thought about it hard enough she'd know the owner of those mysterious eyes... but nothing came, and Tobias was already urging his horse forward. She sighed and followed him, but the eagle remained in the back of her mind.

"Mary! Mary!"

Ephraim came running over to her. He still insisted on calling her by her English name; even in the company of others, he would not use her given Indian name.

"Yes?" she said.

"The warriors are returning!" said Ephraim excitedly. "Black Fox is among them."

I knew Ephraim realised that Black Fox would always be my son, and that he would not be able to fill the hole left by Speckled Bird, but I knew him enough to recognise the underlying tone of unhappiness at Black Fox's return. I do not begrudge my son for taking the war trail, for he is an excellent warrior and Coos needs his agility and his fighting skills. But it does not stop me worrying for him every night he is away. The only person I have felt stronger feelings for is my beloved Jaybird and before him, my grandmother.

The memory of Jaybird and Speckled Bird still brings tears to my eyes. I would give the world to have both of them- one of them, even- back again. I see the warriors filing into the village, surrounded by excited young children, ecstatic wives and relieved brothers and sisters. I see Black Fox among them, accepting his fare share of compliments and praise, respectfully bowing his head rather than standing tall and proudly boasting his accomplishments. My heart swells for him, but I cannot go to him now. There is only one place in this world I want to be, and that is with my Speckled Bird. If I am to slip away unnoticed, it must be now.


End file.
